10.20.2017

The wind cries broccoli

Three or four times a week I walk outside, raise my arms to the heavens, and wailingly implore "What will my children eeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaat?" And if I am quiet and still, I hear the delicate strains of an answer float down to me on the breeze, gentle and not entirely confident: "Noodles. Maybe some broccoli."



Pad See-Ew


Speaking of wailing, I get the sense that the ghost currently haunting our house isn't getting paid enough per hour. Pretty lackluster.




Or maybe we got stuck with a trainee or something